Dareth Shiral
by CCyan
Summary: Mistaken for maleficarum by a group of Templars in the Brecilian Forest, the First of a clan of Dalish tries to escape with her son, Daliath who is secretly a mage. When she is injured, the First urge Daliath to seek out the Grey Wardens in hopes that they will keep him safe and that he will use his magic to help the world be a better place. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO THE DEVELOPER
1. Prologue

Brecilian Forest, 9:14 Dragon:

"Run, Daliath!"  
His mother's voice echoed through the forest as she tripped over a branch. There was a crack, as her leg was broken. The gruff voices of the Templars coming closer.  
"Maker's breath, they sure can run!" shouted one of them; "Get the _malifecarum_!" shouted another. Daliath stopped in his tracks, turned back and rushed towards his fallen mother. Her staff lay beside her, for she had been the Keeper's First.  
"No! What are you doing, Daliath?"  
"I cannot leave you, mother" he said, he was only seven; he couldn't survive without his mother.  
"You have to, sweetie. You have to!"  
The Templars were coming closer, he could hear them.  
"Listen to me! Go to Denerim, to the Grey Wardens, they'll send you to Weisshaupt or Montsimmard, they'll train you, make you a Grey Warden, and then you'll be safe from them!"  
"Mother no, I can't-I…"  
His mother interrupted him:  
"_Dareth shiral ma vhenan_" she said, tears running down her cheeks. Just as she finished, two of the Templars stormed out from the shadows. A flash of steel and a scream and it was done, Daliath's mother lay dead on the ground.  
"_**NO!**_" shouted the young elven mage. He ran and picked up his mother's staff. He drew power from the Fade, as his mother had taught him, and the Templars, taken by surprise were trapped inside a static cage. It was weak magic however, and soon the Templars would be free, so Daliath turned and rushed off. 


	2. Chapter 1-Into the Roads

Weisshaupt Fortress, Anderfels, 21st of Drakonis, 9:29 Dragon

The fireball exited the crystal that served as the tip of Daliath's staff. His opponent managed to block the magic, but it had only been a diversion, for just as the former Templar tried to recover from the defence, Daliath leapt into the air and shot a steady stream of lighting his way. A grunt escaped the ex-Templar's mouth as the lighting hit him. As he was electrocuted, the former Templar, whose name was Gregor, shook violently, before Nahal the spirit mage cleansed him. Daliath bowed mockingly before his beaten opponent, his black hair standing upward as an effect of the lighting.  
"_Dirthara-ma_ _seth'lin_" he pronounced gleefully with a mocking smile at the ex-Templar.  
"That is enough, Daliath!" shouted Nahal.  
"Yes, _Hahren_, _abelas_" Daliath replied, the older elf was no longer his superior, but he had earned Daliath's respect. Daliath flattened his hair and walked off the training grounds of Weisshaupt. In the armory, where Daliath unloaded his pauldrons, he was greeted by Dryden, a warrior from the Bannorn.  
"You sure humbled Gregor, true enough. Anyway, you better head down to the dining hall for lunch, then get some rest. We're leaving at dusk"  
"Leaving?"  
"Aye, for Hossberg. There's an entrance to the Deep Roads near there, a couple of Ander scouts found it a few days ago. We're supposed to check it out, see if there's any darkspawn near the entrance that might find their way out. There'll be eight of us, Warden-Constable Talmer in command. Come on now; get down to the dining hall"

Entrance to the Deep Roads, Anderfels, 29th of Drakonis, 9:29 Dragon

The ground was covered by old bones that cracked and creaked underfoot as the eight Grey Wardens entered the Deep Roads. Daliath channelled power from the Fade, and lit up the crystal at the end of his staff, in order to give the party light. The other mage, Coreth, a grey-haired Antivan, did the same. Talmer, a dwarf warrior who wielded a two-handed axe that seemed ridiculously large in contrast to his stature, coughed through his black beard.  
"That smell," he said, gesturing, "is worse than Dust Town, I tell ya"  
"Careful now, ya pisspot" said one of the other warriors, Girhen, who'd been a casteless before joining the Wardens.  
"Only joking, Gir" said Talmer with an apologetic gesture. Dryden and Coreth laughed. Daliath stared straight ahead, his senses keen to see, hear or smell darkspawn. The three rogues that travelled with them stayed silent, though there were amused smirks upon their lips. Cathian, an elf who'd grown up in the Gwaren alienage, had short blonde hair and wielded a bow. The two others were human, one of noble Orlesian blood, whose name was Daguerre, and Norbert, a middle-aged, dual-wielding tower of a man with a gentle nature and an even gentler smile. Daliath didn't spare them more than a glance; he was too excited for the task at hand. The Orlesian said something Daliath didn't make out, and the group laughed.  
"What about you, knife-ears?" asked the Orlesian. Daliath whipped around.  
"What about me, _shemlen_?" he asked menacingly, angling his staff slightly towards the moustachioed gentleman.  
"Was your mother a sow, like Cathian's?"  
Daliath felt the anger boil up inside him. When you became a Grey Warden, you were supposed to leave your old life behind, to forget racism and other petty indulgences so often enjoyed by nobility, Fereldan and Orlesian alike, but Daguerre had seemingly forgotten that. Daliath felt the power of the Fade course through him, making its way to the end of his staff, but then… a faint, sweet tune started to echo through his mind and the power faded away. He knew what it was, even before Talmer spoke.  
"Darkspawn nearby. You'll have to deal with that shit later, lads"  
"By the Dread Wolf," Daliath exclaimed when he heard the shrieks of genlocks. A few seconds later they came into sight, wearing black, spiky armor and wielding black, spiky weapons. Dryden and Girhen drew their swords, just as Talmer removed his axe from its sheath on his back. Daguerre retrieved his dagger from his belt, as did Norbert with his two. Cathian unslung his longbow.  
"_In Peace, Vigilance. In War, Victory. In Death, Sacrifice_" Daliath whispered, and the mantra of the Grey Wardens calmed him a little. It wasn't long before the arrows started to fly from Cathian's bow, before the fireballs exited the end of Coreth's staff, before Dryden, Talmer, Girhen and the two rogues charged into the fray. Daliath didn't waste any time, he summoned power from the Fade, and embraced a genlock in the grasp of winter, before quickly channelling his power into a burst of deathly sharp icicles. Daliath had always been skilled in the use of primal magic, the magic of war. As a young child being taught magic secretly by his mother, he'd been able to bushes aflame, stun insects and small animals with lighting, freeze butterflies mid-air with frost. He'd struggled with the art of creation, only being able to heal the smallest of wounds. He'd had some success with spirit magic, but not much, only being able to fire a couple of weak spirit bolts before giving up. No, fire and ice and lightning, those were his weapons. He used them now. He sent fireball after fireball in the direction of the genlocks, alternated by streams of lightning and flurries of ice. He was careful not to hit his fellow Wardens. Dryden had slain many darkspawn, their black blood covering his face and armor. Talmer and Girhen were holding their own as well, being assisted by the constant stream of arrows from Cathian. There was a loud scream as Daguerre was toppled by a trio of genlocks that started to eat at his flesh. Coreth pushed them off with a magical push, but it was too late, the rogue was dead.  
_Good riddance_ thought Daliath as he impaled a genlock who'd gotten to close on a huge ice-spike that appeared out of the ground. Soon, the battle died down, and the darkspawn that remained fled deeper into the aptly named Deep Roads.  
"I guess that answered our question," said Talmer, "the darkspawn were very close to the surface"  
"Too close," said Daliath.  
"I'm just glad they didn't find the exit before we did," said Dryden.  
Talmer nodded and said,  
"We'll have to shut this entrance" 


	3. Chapter 3-Into the Past I

Denerim, Ferelden, 11th of Cloudreach, 9:14 Dragon 

Daliath awoke beneath a parked cart, to a cold city. As he adjusted his eyes to the morning light he remembered, today was his eighth birthday. He crawled out from beneath the cart, into the cold air. He felt his stomach rumbling, he was hungry. He'd survived on the road to Denerim by strafing a trade caravan and filching food at night. He hadn't eaten since he got to the capital of Ferelden however, and that was almost five days ago. The cart was parked behind a small bakery, and the smell of freshly-baked bread was escaping from the chimney. He went up to the front, where the baker was kneading dough on a small oaken table near the door. His wife was loading finished loaves into a crate, which she would no doubt take to the market in order to sell. Daliath walked up the baker's wife, and asked:  
"May I have one of those loaves? I am hungry, I haven't eaten for five days"  
"Go back to the alienage, you little knife-ear! Before I call the guards!"  
She spat on the ground in front of him, then turned and entered the bakery to fetch more bread. The baker, who'd heard what his wife said, abandoned his dough and grabbed one of the loaves from the crate. He knelt and gave it to Daliath.  
"Take this now, lad, and hurry off. Come back tomorrow if you'd like, and I'll give you another one," he patted the young elf softly on the head.  
Daliath thanked him and ran off before the baker's wife returned.

The next day he returned to the kindly baker, only to find him talking to a trio of guards.  
"I didn't see any elf. I don't know what my wife told you, gentlemen, but I'm sure she just counted the loaves wrong, there was no theft, I assure you"  
The baker's wife, who'd been standing in the doorway, rushed out.  
"No! There was!" then she caught sight of Daliath, "There! There's the thief!" she pointed at him with a long, bony finger. The guards turned their heads, to see Daliath's back as he was running away. They rushed after him. He managed to get halfway to the city gates before tripping on a rock, and then the guards were on him. One of them pulled him up by the neck of his shirt, and held him for the other two to inspect.  
"Here's a little thief," said the man who held him.  
"Managed to get out of the alienage, I bet" said another guard.  
"You sure? He's got marking's on his face, the alienage ones don't have those" said the third guard. Daliath remained quiet.  
"An elf's an elf. Let's just throw him back into the alienage. I can't be bothered with the paperwork"  
They literally threw him into the alienage; he landed with a splash in a pool of rainwater. He wandered aimlessly for quite some time. Dusk came upon him swiftly, and with it the cold. He sat down, shivering, outside the alienage's excuse for a tavern. A middle-aged elf with chestnut-colored hair, wearing grey mage's robes with twin griffons emblazoned on his chest, walked up to him.  
"Are you cold, my child?"  
Daliath nodded. The elf reached into the large satchel he carried, and produced a rough woolen blanket. He wrapped it around Daliath, before sitting down next to him.  
"I am Nahal," he said, "you are Dalish. What is your name?"  
"Daliath"  
Nahal's eyes widened.  
"Zalthira's son?" he asked in surprise.  
"You knew my mother?" asked Daliath.  
"A long time ago. Tell me, are you a mage?"  
Daliath nodded.  
Nahal got to his feet and stretched out his hand.  
"Come now, we're going to the Grey Wardens"


	4. Chapter 4-A Funeral

Entrance to the Deep Roads, Anderfels, 29th of Drakonis, 9:29 Dragon

They burned Daguerre at noon. His pyre was a collection sticks and tree branches they'd collected from the surrounding area, and was ringed with stones. They'd managed to find a sister of the Chantry in Hossberg to perform the traditional Andrastian funeral rites, but first Talmer would speak. He coughed and said:  
"Here, we say farewell to Daguerre, our brother. He came to us from…" he turned to Norbert,  
"Oi, Norby, where'd he come from?"  
"Jader" said Norbert.  
"He came to us from Jader," continued Talmer, "And he survived our tests, and proved himself a valiant and strong soul. He died performing his duty as a Grey Warden, to seek out the Taint, and the darkspawn who carry it, and exterminate them. _In Peace, Vigilance. In War, Victory. In Death, Sacrifice_" he finished.  
The sister stepped into the place where Talmer had stood, at the head of the pyre.  
"_Blessed are they who stand before,  
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter,  
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.  
Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow,  
In their blood the Maker's will is written_"  
She shook a censer emitting blue smoke over the pyre.  
"_Maker, my enemies are abundant,  
Many are those who rise up against me,  
But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion,  
Should they set themselves against me.  
Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,  
I shall embrace the light, I shall weather the storm,  
I shall endure,  
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.  
Though all before me is shadow,  
Yet shall the Maker be my guide,  
I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond,  
For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light,  
And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost_"  
Daliath was almost sleeping by the time she finished quoting the Canticle of Trials. He thought it was finished, but what followed was a lengthy quote from what he thought was Transfigurations, but admittedly, his knowledge of the _shemlen _religious texts was limited.  
"_O Maker, hear my cry:  
Guide me through the blackest nights,  
Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked,  
Make me to rest in the warmest places,  
O Creator, see me kneel:  
For I walk only where You would bid me,  
Stand only in places You have blessed,  
Sing only the words You place in my throat,  
My Maker, know my heart,  
Take me from a life of sorrow,  
Lift me from a world of pain,  
Judge me worthy of Your endless pride,  
My Creator, judge me whole:  
Find me well within Your grace,  
Touch me with fire that I be cleansed,  
Tell me I have sung to Your approval,  
O Maker, hear my cry:  
Seat me by Your side in death,  
Make me one within Your glory,  
And let the world once more see Your favor,  
For You are the fire at the heart of the world,  
And comfort is only Yours to give._"  
The sister gestured for Dryden and Norbert to near the pyre with the torches they held, she also gestured for them to halt for a few more moments.  
"Goodbye, Daguerre of Jader, go be with the Maker, and have peace"  
Then she gave the command and Norbert and Dryden lowered the torches to the pyre. Its oil covered contents went up into flames.  
The sister eyed Daliath suspiciously. She'd been that way with Coreth at first, but when she found out he had been trained in the Antiva City Circle of Magi, she'd loosened up. But Daliath's Dalish markings did not fail to tell a tale, he'd been trained in no Circle. He'd been an apostate before joining the Wardens. Oh, how he wanted to burn her to cinders with a fireball. He refrained however, for he knew that it would mean bad publicity for his order.  
Dryden, who was obviously infatuated with the sister or at the very least her ample bosom, escorted her back to Hossberg ahorse, and left the others to collapse the entrance to the Deep Roads. Girhen, Cathian, Norbert and Talmer who could do little to collapse the entrance, stepped aside for Coreth and Daliath to handle that. The two mages stood side by side in front of the entrance. It was a large, oval hole in the side of a mountain. They pulled force from the Fade and sent it against the rock in wave after magical wave. And so they continued, for several minutes, until the mountain rumbled, and the stones fell down from the tunnels ceiling and made it impossible to enter, or exit the Deep Roads that way. Daliath was panting as he released the magic; it had taken a lot out of him to perform such a feat of entropy. They mounted, and rode back to Hossberg to catch a night's sleep.  
They left the city at dawn, just as the sunlight began to illuminate the capital of the Anderfels. They alternated between a canter, a trot and a light gallop over the craggy and dry terrain. It took them two days and most of a third to reach the imposing walls of Weisshaupt, and the sight of those walls were a welcome one for Daliath. That night, as he took what he thought was a well-deserved bath, he reflected over the brief time he'd known Daguerre. He'd met him when the man arrived at Weisshaupt for his Joining after being trained for a brief time in Montsimmard. He'd seen the Orlesian cunt survive the true test of the Grey Wardens, and then he hadn't seen him at all for several weeks. As it turned out, Daguerre had been off fighting darkspawn on the Storm Coast, and came back thinking himself an expert on the subject. That didn't help his attitude, already puffed up from his noble upbringing. Then, they'd been shipped off to fight the darkspawn at the Hossberg entrance together and then he'd died.  
Daliath got out of the bath, dried and clothed himself. It hadn't been a pleasant experience, knowing Daguerre of Jader. _  
_


	5. Chapter 5-Into the Past II

Grey Warden Compund, Denerim, Ferelden, 12th of Cloudreach, 9:14 Dragon

The compound was surrounded by grey walls of smooth stone, with drum towers making up its four corners. The compound itself was composed of some two dozen granite buildings, large enough to house twenty men. Outside each building, twin statues of rearing griffons stood proudly, proclaiming the building's ownership. The buildings were connected by a network of perfectly straight, cobbled roads that crisscrossed the compound. Near the edge of the compound was a training area, dotted with half a dozen practice dummies, and a few targets for archery. Nahal ushered Daliath forward through the compound's surprisingly meagre gates. The older elven mage's staff clanked against the cobblestones. It reminded Daliath of his mother's staff. He'd buried it by a tree near the edge of the Brecilian Forest, to give his mother some semblance of a burial. As they walked, Nahal and Daliath drew looks from the Grey Wardens that were walking past them down the roads. A few of them called greeting to Nahal, others ignored the elven Warden, too consumed by their tasks to notice. At the end of the cobbled road, they stood before the largest of the buildings. A four-storied monstrosity, dotted with griffon-shaped gargoyles. Nahal led Daliath through the open doors of the building and through the large room that greeted them into a gloomy office in the left corner of the first floor. In the middle of the office there was a large desk, and a man was bent over it. He had swarthy skin, long brown hair and a magnificent brown beard.  
"Duncan," said Nahal, before quickly correcting himself, "Warden-Commander"  
"Duncan's fine, Nahal, no need to be so damned formal," said the man without lifting his gaze from the documents on his desk. Nahal coughed rather forcefully in an effort to gain the man's attention.  
"What?" said the Warden-Commander, turning his head toward the elven Warden, then he saw Daliath.  
"What's this?" he asked.  
"This is Daliath, he is in need of feeding and a warm bed to sleep in," he tapped the young elf's shoulder, "and in return he'll take our tests and see if he could become one of us, one day"  
Duncan eyed Daliath with suspicion and Nahal took note of that.  
"He's Zalthira's boy" he said gravely. Duncan's expression changed suddenly.  
"Well then, we'll see what we can do"


End file.
